Chapter 476: Proof of Existence (64)
Chapter 476: Proof of Existence (64)
A chilly silence settled over the area.
No one dared to speak. It was a display of martial prowess so overwhelming that even the crowd of tens of thousands watching from afar held their breath—myself included.
It had been a single strike.
My opponent hadn't even used the martial arts he was known for. He had simply picked up a weapon rolling on the ground and swung it, yet the resulting spray of earth and dust formed billowing clouds like thunderheads.
I remained slumped in the center of the devastation the monster had created.
A crater spanning dozens of meters in radius.
The sunken ground gave a grim estimate of the blow's power. At the moment of impact, the dust must have shot high into the sky.
My ragged gasps grew even more labored. An emotion independent of my will was already dominating my mind.
Fear.
I wanted to run away right this second. The instinct carved into my genes was screaming at me.
Turn around now and run.
We were in different leagues. Even such a dry sentiment failed to fully capture the staggering disparity between us.
Was this the power of a 'Master,' one of only three on the entire continent—the 'Saint'?
The only saving grace was that I managed to snap out of my state of panic before long.
I had survived countless brushes with death.
Of course, experiencing a genuine 'death' had delivered a shock on a completely different level, but I had managed to barely hold onto my sanity.
Despite that, my limbs were still trembling.
My hands felt numb as I fumbled, raking the ground in search of my sword.
It was then.
Clack.
A sword dropped in front of me.
A pair of sky-blue eyes cast a silent gaze down at me.
"Indeed, you possess the skill to be called the Divinity of the Empire. To think you've regained your senses already."
"H-How..."
Forcing my tongue to move—stiff as it was from tension—I tried to feign a sharp glare as I asked.
"How can you bring the dead back to life?"
I had even forgotten to use formal speech. It was an insolence that would have justified a thunderous rebuke for blasphemy, but the Saint showed no sign of being offended.
He simply shared his story with a calm demeanor.
"Every Master delves into a single riddle. Should I call it an intuition for viewing the world? Much like how your master has been obsessed with 'Flow'..."
Step.
He took only a single step forward, but my body convulsed instinctively.
I bit my lip and struck my thigh with my fist several times. Only then did the tremors in my legs finally subside.
The fear of death was too great.
It wasn't just my body. Deep scars had been left in both my instincts and my unconscious.
Scars too heavy to suppress with mere will.
Regardless, the Saint continued his low-voiced explanation.
"My area of interest was life and death. What is life? And what is death? If our lives are a grace from the Lord, I believed that agony regarding these questions must naturally follow."
My dazed eyes reflexively drifted toward the mace the Saint held.
Come to think of it, a question remained. How on earth could he produce such power without even using Aura?
The answer to that, too, seemed to lie in the Saint's explanation.
"Do you happen to know the process by which all things in heaven and earth were created? The flesh fashioned by the Evil God Omeros was nothing more than a sophisticated lump of clay. But when the Lord breathed life into that body, only then did the pulse beat and life begin..."
Tap.
The Saint's stride stopped at a subtle distance from me.
But I couldn't afford to let my guard down. No matter how much distance he put between us, he was a powerhouse capable of closing it in an instant.
I forced my body, which still hadn't escaped the quagmire of death, to stand up.
A thick groan leaked through my clenched teeth.
"What I manipulate is that 'breath.' Or perhaps I should just call it 'life' for short."
I gripped my sword and corrected my stance once more.
Hooo.
I exhaled, but my wildly thumping heart wouldn't calm down. Yet, the more it raced, the more I steeled my resolve.
I will not run.
I will not act like a coward.
Every time I repeated those words to myself, the jet-black rod tucked in my shirt seemed to resonate with me.
"It is not limited to living beings. All things in heaven and earth breathe and share this 'breath.' The source of life, and the fountainhead of all vitality... The reason you were revived is related to this as well."
"...Because you breathed life into me?"
A faint arc formed on the Saint's lips. It was a benevolent smile befitting his title.
"Have you heard the story that the soul of the deceased remains in the body for a while? If so, wouldn't it suffice to simply restart the biological activities of the flesh?"
"Then, the reason you don't use Aura is..."
"Because the pure physical body is stronger."
My face turned pale as I slowly scanned the Saint's form.
He didn't have a frail body like other priests or mages. However, he was on the leaner side; it was hard to believe he possessed such monstrous physical strength.
That was why Unbinding (解) didn't work.
He was a man who could cause such devastation through pure physical ability alone.
There was no reason for him to use Aura. And as long as all things in heaven and earth possessed 'breath,' there would be no need to replenish it separately.
It couldn't be neutralized by Aura or Mana. He was a monster who could even reverse life and death, and who wouldn't tire even if he fought for days on end.
Goosebumps ran down my spine.
I couldn't win.
"Countless people train their bodies. But who would hold the flesh as sacred as a martial artist does?"
"Then why are you holding a weapon?"
"Because if I don't hold a weapon, I'd have to get serious."
With a thin, harmless smile, the Saint slowly began to shift his stance.
"It would be quite a nuisance if I blew away a mountain every time I fought, wouldn't it?"
He's coming.
Sensing the Saint's signal, I immediately put everything I had into my defense.
Unbinding wouldn't work. In that case, I had to respond with Binding (結).
Seeing the silver Aura condensing firmly on the blade, the Saint nodded with a smile.
"A correct judgment. You've improved since the first time... However."
Crack.
Once again, spacetime froze.
It wasn't even a split second.
It was as if different scenes had been cut and pasted together. The Saint had already reached me, and a fierce light was exploding from those sky-blue eyes.
Even his warm smile had twisted into something savage.
How, when did he—
Before I could even finish the thought.
"Still not enough!"
Splat.
The sound of brain matter, soaked in blood, spraying once again.
With a thunderous boom, my body was sent flying high into the air. That was my last memory.
*
Blackout. I opened my eyes, gasping once more.
"How was your second death?"
"How on earth..."
My question couldn't continue.
Splat.
My headless body teetered before collapsing.
Blackout. Then, back to the beginning.
"If you want to give up, you may do so at any time."
Don't give me that crap, I screamed internally, clenching my teeth.
The result was the same.
Splat.
The sensation of my skull bursting apart.
That was already the third time.
"Did you say you wouldn't run?"
No matter how many times I lunged at him, it was the same.
Whether I took the offensive or the defensive, the result was always identical.
Death.
Blackout.
And revival.
"Do you have any idea how difficult and painful that path is?!"
I opened my eyes, exhaling a breath I had lost count of.
It was the first time.
I had never faced such an insurmountable wall. In the past, if I struggled enough, a glimmer of hope would appear.
But the trial currently crushing me was on a different dimension.
I couldn't see a breakthrough at all.
In truth, I had already prepared myself for death. That was part of my plan.
The Saint wouldn't actually kill me. So I intended to challenge him again and again, hoping to catch even a thread of a possibility—a clue for Awakening.
But was there even a chance of victory?
It was a fundamental question. Even if I caught a clue for Awakening here, I couldn't imagine a scenario where I emerged victorious over this monster.
The trial took another step forward.
"'I will not run.' Those are good words... But who would have wanted to run? Why did they have to run?"
Tap, tap.
The mace he tapped against his palm didn't even retain its original shape anymore. It was merely a short iron rod.
But even that was enough.
Enough to sever my life and cause thunderous explosions and earthquakes.
My ragged gasps grew damp with moisture.
My body was pleading.
Let's stop now.
"...Because it is too painful."
Every time the Saint moved through the dust, I groaned and struggled.
Get up. Get up.
I couldn't fall yet.
"That path is one that will be smeared with blood and flesh."
Step by step.
Far from standing up, I had only just managed to crawl onto my hands and knees.
I panted heavily and lifted my head. My vision was blurred by sweat.
"Compared to that, isn't this a considerate condition? A body that should have died long ago is alive and moving. Even if you fall, you can challenge me again and again... But do you think real combat will be like that?"
With a smile full of benevolence, the Saint declared.
"...Impossible!"
The Saint's free hand traced the sign of the cross over his chest. He offered a proposal as if it were the final chance.
"There is still a chance to turn back, brother. Do you truly believe your life belongs only to you? Think of the countless lives you carry on your shoulders."
My hands were trembling violently.
An answer. I had to give an answer.